Way, way off the beaten track
Sarah Marshall escapes to a truly remote world on a visit to the Faroe Islands
Although the Faroe Islands, a selfgoverning territory belonging to Denmark, are only 205 miles north of Scotland (there’s a direct flight from Edinburgh) – they occupy another time and place. Slow-paced and considered, life couldn’t be more removed.
For a brief, blissful threemonth period, the islands were even Covid-free, until guests attending a wedding in the capital, Tórshavn, sparked a wildfire of cases. It was quickly brought under control by an effective track and trace system.
Now every person entering the country – tourists and residents – must take a Covid test at the airport (from £50 for foreigners as of October 1), self-isolating at their hotels or homes for 12-24 hours until results come through.
Still, fewer tourists than usual have gathered to witness the Múlafossur waterfall in Gásadalur, where a wisp of white water plunges elegantly.
Further into the valley, the village feels much more peaceful. Ram horns coil around windowpanes where curtains barely twitch, and an honesty box overflows with rhubarb, one of the few items that easily grows here.
For a destination which ‘closes for maintenance’ three days a year to keep the beast of over-tourism at bay, a lull in visitors must surely have been a relief? Tensions were once so high, I’m told, a disgruntled farmer installed a debit card machine on his gate, to curb (or capitalise upon) the hikers on his land.
But my guide, Jóhannus, assures me most people are eager for visitors to return. “We’re very welcoming,” he smiles.
I have a chance to sample that hospitality in the company of Anna and Óli Rubeksen, ninth-generation sheep farmers who open their sea-view home for supper clubs.
Dressed elegantly in a silk shirt, her cheeks flushed with blusher, Anna is nothing like the hay-baling shepherdess I’d imagined. Yet she and her husband still herd their 150 sheep alone, often scaling precipitous grazing areas in deep snow and high winds.
Far outnumbering people, sheep are integral to the Faroese way of life. Skerpikjøt – wind-dried mutton – is a speciality here. Left to hang in a ventilated shed for up to nine months, it’s essentially rotten flesh, but when Anna serves the dish, it’s too rude to refuse.
A luxurious starter of codfish and egg bathed in silky butter gives me enough faith to trust anything the self-taught kitchen whizz prepares. And as it turns out, the tender, slowcooked meat is surprisingly palatable, although its vinegary, pickled flavour is one I think I’ll leave the locals to enjoy in future.
Evening light streams through Anna’s windows, silhouetting hulking islands offshore. It’s a reminder the sun does sometimes shine on these exposed, steep rising basalt lands, so often smothered by low-lying cloud. Given conditions are so changeable, Anna promises me there are always rays spotlighting part of the archipelago. Hesitating, she adds: “Probably”. It explains why the fickle Faroes have earned their nickname ‘The Land Of Maybe’.
If days can be bright, local legends are almost always dark.
From tales of eagles swiping babies, to myths of suicidal humans disguised in zip-up seal suits, no story has a normal happy ending. Both educational and dark-humoured, they are nevertheless told with entertaining vigour that gives the Faroes a unique flavour.
HOW TO PLAN YOUR TRIP
Discover the World (01737 886 131; discoverthe-world.com) offers a range of holidays to the Faroe Islands. Prices start from £280pp for a three-night Torshavn city break, including B&B accommodation. Excludes flights, which start from around £200pp. Go to visitfaroeislands.com.